


Make Believe You're Unafraid

by allfireburns



Series: And If I Miss You, And If We Falter [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Ficlet, Friendship, Gen, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-14
Updated: 2009-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 18:56:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allfireburns/pseuds/allfireburns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After leaving Chiswick, the TARDIS console catches fire. The Doctor stops in Cardiff for repairs, and Jack and Martha are not to be deterred.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Believe You're Unafraid

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 4x13.

The Doctor is halfway to the Horsehead Nebula, trying to convince himself he's _not_ going anywhere near the Ood Sphere, when the console stops working. Every button, every switch - he tries everything he can reach for about ten seconds, and then the console sparks, and something ignites. One minor fire, a few unpleasant burns, and a drenched console later, the Doctor activates one of the emergency programmes he prefers to avoid (all of them), and the TARDIS goes tumbling through the Vortex to Cardiff, 2009.

The idea is to put the TARDIS in a relatively safe place while he performs whatever repairs are necessary. What he does is stare at the console for a moment, watching foam drip onto the grate (all the fire extinguishers in existence, and the one he keeps by the console has to make a mess), lock the TARDIS door, and stalk into the interior of the TARDIS to wander the endless hallways for a while.

They're not really endless, he reminds himself, but the sheer size of them and the way they occasionally shift gives, at least, a very convincing impression. Not quite a substitute for running as far away as he can.

* * *

This was, he supposes, inevitable. Throw an unshielded TARDIS into the heart of the Crucible for any length of time and there's bound to be a little damage. More than a little. He just hadn't had the chance to see to it, and then he decided if it was working well enough to tow the Earth home...

He gets the distinct impression that the TARDIS disapproves of this reasoning.

The TARDIS has been parked for a day and a half when the Doctor hears a rap on the door. He glances up from what could loosely be termed repairs, more accurately cleaning fire extinguisher foam out of a panel of buttons so he _can_ repair it. After a second, the knocking repeats, and he sighs, pulling a console screen toward him. With a bit of coaxing, he manages to bring up an image of what's _outside_ the doors, and...

Jack. Of course. The image of the Plass and the TARDIS and the man outside is small and not too clear, and all in shades of black and green, but it's hard to mistake that coat. And come to think of it, Jack is the only person in the _universe_ who can make a simple knock on the door sound both concerned and demanding at the same time.

"Doctor?" Jack's voice calls faintly through the door.

The Doctor shuts off the screen and flips on the most irritatingly cheerful music stored on the TARDIS library, loud enough for Jack to hear it outside. Loud enough to ignore him.

Naturally, with all the things that _don't_ work now, the music would be one of the few things that _does_.

* * *

He shuts off the music before long, when it begins to grate on his nerves. Jack's given up by then anyway, and the Doctor doesn't expect he'll bother again.

When he is underneath the TARDIS console replacing scorched wiring is not a good time to be proven wrong.

No one knocks. He just hears a key turning in the lock, and then the door swinging inward, and soft feet on the grate. "Doctor?" Pale gray light from the open door mingles with the natural green and gold light of the TARDIS, and the color seems to drain from the room a little. Still raining, then, the Doctor gathers.

He pushes himself out from under the console, peers around it at Martha, and frowns. "What are you doing here?"

Martha stops at the end of the walkway up from the door, next to one of the branched coral columns, and folds her arms over her chest, like she's trying not to crowd him. "You still keep a spare key on top of the police box sign."

The Doctor pauses, frowning a little. That wasn't exactly what he meant by the question, though he takes a moment to wonder how exactly she'd _reached_ the little nook above the doors without something to stand on. "I didn't mean..."

He sighs, glancing past her to the open door. It's raining outside, still, and he realizes Martha's wet, hair and clothes dripping on the grated floor.

"What are you doing in Cardiff? We are in Cardiff, aren't we?" It doesn't seem likely the TARDIS relocated to London without his notice, but worth asking.

Martha smiles a little, though she doesn't move, and the Doctor stays on the other side of the console. "Yes, we're in Cardiff. Jack told me you were here, and I just... thought I'd come by and ask if you were planning on coming out of here any time soon."

"Ah." He falls silent for a moment, and then glances back down, focusing on the array of switches and a bicycle pump in front of him rather than Martha's face. "Not... I mean, this isn't exactly a proper trip. Just had to stop somewhere for a little repair work."

He leans forward, against the edge of the console, grimaces as pain lances through one of the burns on his palm, and jerks his hand back automatically. Martha frowns at him for a moment, looking worried, then finally sighs, circles around the console, and insists he let her look at his hand before she leaves.

* * *

On the one hand, the Doctor appreciates that his friends are such clever people. It helps whenever someone new comes up with some plan to destroy the earth, the universe, et cetera.

On the other, he's not certain the fact they can contact him any time they like is always a positive thing. The Doctor is just climbing out from under the grating, having completed all the necessary repairs, when Martha's phone rings. The Doctor freezes and eyes it for a moment before deciding that if they really need him, they can come up and knock. Or at least leave a message.

He waits until the phone stops ringing. Waits a minute to see if there's a message, and when there is none, walks around the console to turn on the navigation system.

The screen comes on, and before the Doctor can type in coordinates, a message comes up - in English, not Gallifreyan. Not a system message, though he could have told that from the first line.

_Doctor,  
Before you start worrying, this is probably a one-time thing. We won't be able to contact you this way once you leave the timeline - though you still need to keep that phone, Martha would like to point out.  
In the meantime, we're having Indian and you're welcome to come. There's a paving stone a little to the left of the TARDIS - I'm sure you can hack the controls.  
\- Jack_

The Doctor stares at the message for a minute, hand hovering over the controls. He's going to have to leave soon anyway, and Jack can't really be _expecting_ him. Just an idle offer, no great disappointment when he doesn't take him up on it. It's just a quick series of commands to close the message and set coordinates for Anathema or Osiris or Barcelona, because he never did manage to make it there, did he?

The Doctor closes the message.

He shuts off the screen.

He walks out of the TARDIS.

It's not easy searching through coat pockets for his sonic screwdriver with a bandaged hand - Martha insisted - but he locates it eventually, as well as the paving stone Jack mentioned. The Doctor can't help but smile a little as he scans it and notices the perception filter, realizes how it must have gotten there.

As the paving stone descends into Torchwood's Hub, the Doctor takes in the fountain, a pteradon studying him sleepily from a cage, at a glance at least five different kinds of technology he was fairly certain they shouldn't have, and...

And Martha and Jack, stepping out onto the balcony with identical grins as they spot him. The Doctor grins back, and steps smoothly off the paving stone as it comes to rest by the base of the fountain, and starts toward the stairs.

"I _knew_ you'd come!" Martha says, and rushes down the stairs to meet him halfway, wrapping her arms around his neck when she reaches him.

Jack stays on the balcony, but he smiles as the Doctor glances to him over Martha's shoulder. "I didn't."

The Doctor shrugs, and sets Martha down, and tries to smile like it's nothing at all. "Yeah, well. I thought Indian food sounded like a good idea."

Jack and Martha kindly refrain from pointing out that he could have gone to _India_ with hardly any effort if he just wanted the food, and the Doctor pretends he hadn't thought of it. It's better with friends to share it with anyway.


End file.
